Cousins and Other Such Nuisances

 ‘Now you chicks all run along, scatter now,’ Stelliana Took said, making nervous shooing motions.

Her husband Ferdinand came up behind her, slipping an arm about her waist. ‘Go on with you,’ he said. ‘Your aunts have packed you a picnic, so take yourselves off to the wildflower meadow and don’t let us see you again until suppertime!’

 ‘May we take the ponies?’ young Merry Brandybuck said, his eyes lighting with hope. If Pearl was to go with them, and it looked as if she might, they could ride to the meadow and have races and other sport without Cousin Ferdinand’s constant reminders of the proper use of a pony.

Ferdinand looked at Pearl from under his thick eyebrows. ‘Well Pearlie?’ he said. ‘Can I trust you to watch over the ponies, lest these wild ruffians run them too fast and too far?’

Pearl surveyed her young cousins. ‘I’ll do my best,’ she said dubiously. ‘I’d rather stay and help Mama.’

 ‘Now, now,’ Stelliana flustered. ‘Your Auntie Allie and I...’

Ferdinand’s arm tightened briefly around his wife before he released her and gave her a little push towards the smial. ‘Now, now,’ he said in his turn. ‘You go on back to your duties and I’ll see them off.’

One of the hired hobbits saddled the ponies and the bevy of young Tooks and Brandybuck mounted. Ferdibrand rode a pony that was rather too fine for one of his seven years, but that was a reflection of who his father was: by reputation the finest pony trainer in the land of the Shire. His sister Rosemary rode a dainty mare, inviting Pimpernel to share the ride. Eight-year-old Merry too rode a fine pony, but that was a reflection of who his grandfather was: Master of Buckland. Pearl and Vinca shared one of the old plough ponies, retired from field work but kept for the young Tooks to ride.

It was a pleasant ride under the summer Sun, past her zenith but promising hours yet of her warm smile. They passed the fields of labouring hired hobbits who paused to wave at Farmer Took’s young ones and relations. Paladin was not out in the fields this day, being rather more occupied with other matters.

They reached the wildflower meadow and slid down from their ponies. Pearl made sure the hobbles were secure while Nell and Rosie spread the large cloth. Rosie slapped Merry’s hand as he reached into one of the baskets. ‘You wait until we’re finished,’ she scolded. Handing him a jug, she said, ‘Now you go to the stream and fill this with water, and you, Ferdi...’

 ‘What, me?’ Ferdi said with a surprised look.

 ‘Go and gather some flowers,’ Nell said, ‘for the table.’

Ferdi gave her a gap-toothed grin and bowed with a flourish. ‘Your least wish is my greatest desire, milady,’ he said.

 ‘Your father oughtn’t read you those fanciful stories,’ Nell said, but little Vinca sighed.

 ‘D’you suppose he’ll read another chapter tonight after supper?’ she said wistfully. ‘It’s so beautiful, the kings and castles and things.’

 ‘I liked the knight slaying the dragon,’ Merry said, brandishing an imaginary blade. Ferdi drew a blade of his own from a fancied scabbard and the two began an energetic battle, until Pearl, returning from the ponies, seized each one by the curls.

 ‘Ow!’ they protested, while Rosie and Nell laughed and Vinca gazed wide-eyed.

 ‘You ruffians go off and do what you're told, or you won’t eat,’ Pearl said sternly.

 ‘Quick, Mer,’ Ferdi said. ‘We must escape the evil enchantress before she...’

 ‘Turns us to toads!’ Merry finished. ‘Ow, very well, I’ll fetch your water, you black-hearted hag, if you will only release me and mine esquire!’

 ‘Hah,’ Pearl said, releasing them rather more roughly than she intended, but before she could apologise Merry had scooped up the jug and was running to the laughing brook, Ferdi in close pursuit.

By the time they returned with the jug overflowing with bright blooms, the food was laid out and the feast was ready. The lads would have dived in, but for Pearl’s stern eye and strong arm. ‘We are young ladies and gentlehobbits,’ she reminded.

 ‘It’s a picnic,’ Merry protested, but she stared him down with a haughty look.

 ‘What would your grandfather say?’ she said.

He sighed and shook out his serviette, placing it with glum decorum on his lap, waiting for Pearl to fill his plate and pass it to him. Soon he’d forgot his troubles, however, and he and Ferdi were racing to see who could consume the most food the fastest.

 ‘I hope you choke,’ Vinca muttered as Merry snatched the last cream puff before she could reach it.

 ‘Have hope, Vinca,’ Rosie said. ‘With any luck they’ll both have an awful tummy ache this evening, and have to be dosed for it.’

 ‘Here, Vinca,’ Nell said kindly handing over her last cream puff. ‘Have this one; I took one too many.’

Mollified, Vinca settled with the treat. When she’d sucked all the cream from the puff, she began to tear off pieces of pastry and eat each one slowly and pleasurably. It was much better than stuffing the entirety into one’s mouth, as Merry had, she observed with her nose in the air. When the last bite was gone, she sighed.

 ‘What is it, love?’ Pearl asked, pulling her littlest sister against her for a hug.

 ‘When will our new sister be born?’ she asked pensively.

Merry laughed. ‘Probably being born as we speak,’ he said. ‘Why do you think they hurried us out of the smial so quickly?’

 ‘O aye,’ Ferdi said with a laugh of his own. ‘After all, the old owl wouldn’t come with us all hanging about in the yard!’ 

 ‘I’d like to see the old owl bring a babe someday,’ Vinca mused.

 ‘But he never comes if you see him!’ Ferdi protested. His own mother had expected a babe, last year, but the old owl hadn’t come, and Stelliana had been frail and weepy for a long time after, and they never talked about babes at home. They’d nearly cancelled their annual visit to Whittacres, with Auntie Eglantine’s confinement coming at the same time, but his mother had tearfully proclaimed that she was well, now, and wouldn’t think of staying away.

 ‘That’s why we’re here and not there,’ Rosie said reassuringly, tousling Ferdi’s curls. ‘There’s no chance we’ll scare the old owl away this time.’

 ‘But why don’t grown-ups scare him?’ Vinca asked reasonably.

 ‘Because they know to be quiet,’ Pearl said, smoothing her littlest sister’s hair as Vinca yawned widely.

 ‘I know how to be quiet,’ Vinca said, her eyes drooping.

 ‘Of course you do, dearest,’ Pearl said softly, her fingers stroking Vinca’s forehead. ‘Close your eyes now,’ she breathed. It was time for Vinca’s nap, but of course she couldn’t take it in her own bed where she’d hear their mother’s distressing moans. Pearl hoped desperately that the babe would come soon, and safely.

Vinca did fall asleep, and Nell and Rosie as well. Pearl felt her own eyelids grow heavy, for she was full of good food and sunshine. She looked over at the lads, who’d toppled over on the far end of the blanket and were asleep. Lovely. She could close her eyes for just a moment...

Ferdi wakened first, and nudged Merry. When there was no response, he tackled his cousin much as one pup will jump upon another. ‘Wake up!’ he hissed.

Merry was instantly awake and the two wrestled their way off the blanket and into the long grass. Merry, being a year older and heavier, finally pinned Ferdi down. ‘Say “Cousin”,’ he panted.

 ‘Not on your life!’ Ferdi hissed.

 ‘Say it!’ Merry insisted.

 ‘It!’ Ferdi said, and both were convulsed with laughter. When they recovered, they looked over at the sleeping lasses. ‘What d’you want to do now?’ Ferdi asked.

 ‘We could race,’ Merry said, his eyes dancing.

 ‘Yes, let’s!’ Ferdi shouted enthusiastically, clapping his hands over his mouth. His apprehensive glance at the sleepers showed no harm done.

The two lads rose quietly and made their way as cunningly as any ruffians to where the ponies grazed. Merry unfastened the hobbles on his pony and Ferdi’s and then he helped Ferdi mount. It was difficult for him to get up, himself, but to waken Pearl to ask for help would rather defeat their purpose, so he kept at it until he managed.

They walked their ponies away from the picnic, not wanting to waken Pearl. When Merry judged they’d gone far enough, he pointed to a tree at the far end of the meadow. ‘First one to the tree wins,’ he said.

 ‘You’re on!’ Ferdi said. ‘Give the count!’

 ‘One—two—three—’ Merry chanted.

 ‘Go!’ Ferdi cried, and the two were off. Their ponies were well-matched, and it was a matter for some argument as to which won the race, if any did.

Ferdi picked another finish, and they had another race. This time Merry leaned far forward on his pony, and the resulting burst of speed left him in the lead by a nose. ‘Not fair!’ Ferdi cried, and nothing would suit him but another race. They ran back to the original tree, and Ferdi won this time, though not by much.

 ‘So we’re even,’ he said with a laugh, but Merry shook his head.

 ‘Another race,’ he insisted, but Ferdi was bored with racing.

 ‘My pony can jump better than your pony,’ he dared.

 ‘Bet he can’t,’ Merry countered.

 ‘Bet he can,’ Ferdi said. ‘Just watch!’ He dug his heels into his pony’s side, running him at the stone wall at the edge of the field. The pony lifted and flew over.

Merry followed, pulling up after the jump in a better humour. ‘See?’ he said. ‘He can so jump.’ They jumped the wall several times more for the sheer joy of it.

 ‘Bet he cannot jump the stile,’ Ferdi said, his eye lighting on that structure, which allowed hobbits to climb over the wall that kept beasts safely contained.

 ‘Bet he can,’ Merry said. He kneed his pony into a canter, and all was looking quite promising right on up until they reached the stile and the pony rolled a dubious eye, planting his forefeet and ploughing a little furrow in the grass as he precipitously halted.

Merry did not halt with his pony, however, but was catapulted over the ears of his mount, into the wooden structure, where he came to a rest, ominously still.

 ‘Merry!’ Ferdi cried, panic-stricken, racing his pony to the spot and jumping off before the beast came to a stop. ‘Merry!’

There was a faint shout behind him, and he looked around to see Pearl running down the Hill, followed by the younger lasses.

He reached Merry and shook him, being rewarded with a groan. ‘Merry!’ he cried again. ‘Speak to me! Say something!’ He continued to shake and entreat until Pearl came panting up behind him and pulled him away.

 ‘Stop that!’ she said sharply, though she could scarcely gasp out the words. She knelt by her young cousin, checking him over anxiously. Whatever would happen if the grandson of the Master of Buckland were to die while visiting her family? To her relief, she saw he was breathing. She felt his neck, arms and legs, pulled up his shirt to look at his abdomen as she’d seen the healer do when one of the hired hobbits had fallen from the roof of the barn. The left arm was broken, she thought. ‘Close your eyes!’ she ordered.

 ‘What?’ said Ferdi, confused.

 ‘Close your eyes!’ Pearl said again, and such was her experience managing younger hobbits that Ferdi’s eyes closed almost of themselves. She quickly skimmed out of her petticoat and before he cautiously cracked his eyelids once more she was using the undergarment to immobilize Merry’s arm, binding it securely against his body.

Nell and Rosie came up then, Vinca between them. ‘Fetch the ponies,’ Pearl said.

Nell turned to obey though her breath came fast and there was an ache in her side, but Ferdi was faster. ‘I’ll go!’ he cried. Rosemary vaulted him into his saddle, climbing up behind, and they galloped to where the other ponies grazed. It was quick work to remove the hobbles, boost Ferdi once more into his saddle, and lead the ponies to where Pearl cradled Merry.

Pearl helped Nell onto the sway-backed plough pony and with the help of the others managed to lift Merry up before her. ‘Don’t let him fall,’ she warned.

 ‘I’m not stupid,’ Nell said.

 ‘I’m sorry, Nell, I know you’re not. I’m feeling rather stupid myself at the moment,’ Pearl said. What her father would say! Not to mention her uncle, the heir to Buckland, and her aunt! They’d entrusted the care of their son to her, and this had happened...

They rode slowly back to the smial, leaving blanket and baskets and remnants of picnic on the meadow, for they thought only to get Merry back as soon as possible. Perhaps the healer would be finished helping the babe into the world and would have time to set a broken arm.

It was later than she’d thought, Pearl realised, for the workers were no longer in the field. They’d already gone in and were doing the chores before washing up for supper. One of the workers emerged from the byre with two buckets of foaming milk as they rode into the yard. He hastily put his buckets down with a shout, seeing white-faced Merry in his petticoat bandage.

Adults emerged from the smial, breaking into a run when they saw Merry. Saradoc lifted his son from Pimpernel’s grasp, carrying him into the smial and laying him upon the large bed in the guest room.

 ‘Pa—?’ Merry said. ‘Papa?’

Saradoc shushed him. ‘Don’t try to talk, Merry-lad,’ he said, smoothing a stray curl away from the bruised forehead.

Healer Sweetbriar bustled into the room, her grandmotherly air belied by her sharp glance as she took everything in. ‘What have we here?’ she asked. ‘Riding accident, I was told? Good thing I was still on the spot.’

 ‘Pearl said she thought the left arm was broken,’ Saradoc said, ‘and he spoke for the first time when they were halfway back to the farm.’

 ‘So young Merry,’ the healer said, unbinding the petticoat. ‘Let us have a look, shall we?’ She made a quick, competent examination and looked to the anxious parents, for Eglantine had sent Esmeralda from her side on hearing the news. ‘Broken,’ she confirmed, ‘but it ought to set straight.’

Pearl hovered in the doorway, but her father took her by the arm, saying, ‘Come away, Pearlie.’

Paladin took his oldest daughter to the kitchen and poured her a cup of strong tea, sweetening it well. He sat her down at the scrubbed table and urged her to drink.

 ‘I’m—I’m sorry, Da,’ she sobbed, now that her part was over and the grown-ups had taken over.

 ‘Now-now, Pearlie,’ he soothed, rubbing her back with a large, work-worn hand. ‘Lads will be lads, you know.’

 ‘I ought to have kept a closer watch,’ she whispered.

 ‘Rosie said you all fell asleep,’ he said, and she nodded.

 ‘We did,’ she sniffed. ‘I’m sorry, Da.’

 ‘Now, lovie, you’re only hobbit, you know. A fine meal, a sky full of sunshine, why anyone would have fallen asleep. It was your bad luck that the lads wakened before you did. It could have happened to anyone.’

 ‘You’d never fall asleep,’ she said, ‘not when you were watching little ones.’

Paladin chuckled softly. ‘Ah, lass,’ he said. ‘Ferdinand and I both fell asleep, upon a time, when we were in charge of little ones.’ He shook his head. ‘Luckily the stream was shallow, so all they got was a good soaking and no one drowned.’

 ‘Drowned!’ Pearl gasped, her eyes wide.

 ‘Aye, lass,’ her father answered. ‘You came off lucky, Pearlie, and I’d wager you won’t fall asleep another time, when you’re given charge of young lads.’

 ‘You can be safe with that wager,’ Pearl said stoutly.

 ‘Good,’ her father said with a firm nod. ‘Because...’ He was interrupted by Nell, Vinca and Rosie bursting into the kitchen, all jabbering at once.

Paladin settled them at the table, poured out cambric tea, and put out a generous supply of ginger biscuits. Soon the mouths were occupied and relative quiet reigned.

Saradoc entered the kitchen with Healer Sweetbriar. ‘He’ll sleep the rest of the day,’ she was saying.

 ‘How’s Merry?’ Pearl asked anxiously.

 ‘He’s well,’ Saradoc said with a hug for his niece. ‘Your Auntie Allie’s sitting with him, but the bone setting went just as it ought. He’ll have a weather ache for the rest of his life, but the arm will heal straight and strong again.’

 ‘Oh,’ Pearl said, slumping in her relief.

Ferdibrand entered rather gingerly with his father, traces of hastily-wiped-away tears still to be seen on his cheeks. He declined a seat at the table, choosing instead to stand to sip his cambric tea and nibble at the biscuit Paladin pressed into his hand.

 ‘We had a little chat about dares, and the proper use of ponies,’ Ferdinand said, and the other fathers nodded in understanding.

 ‘Did the old owl come yet?’ Vinca said suddenly. All stared at her. ‘With my little sister,’ she added in irritation. ‘Did my little sister arrive yet?’

 ‘No, not quite,’ Paladin said with a sudden grin, meeting answering grins from the other fathers.

 ‘D’you mean we have to go out again?’ Vinca said. ‘May we not stay? I promise to be extra quiet!’

 ‘All is well, love,’ Paladin said. ‘The old owl is come and gone again.’

 ‘But he forgot my sister?’ Vinca said in outraged comprehension.

 ‘Not quite, lass,’ Paladin said, taking her upon his knee. ‘Now...’ he said, and the attention of all the young ones was riveted upon him.

 ‘Yes, Da?’ Pearl said encouragingly.

 Paladin hesitated, then finally said, ‘What would you lasses say to... a brother?’

 ‘A brother!’ all of his daughters chorused together, whilst Ferdinand guffawed, Ferdibrand’s eyes grew wide, and Saradoc grinned widely.

 ‘There’s been some sort of mistake,’ Vinca said indignantly. ‘I don’t want a brother!’

 ‘You don’t want a brother?’ her father asked, incredulous.

Vinca stuck her nose in the air. ‘Cousins are quite trouble enough!’